


Revelation

by MrsluluSpock



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-12 06:40:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 11,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1183074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsluluSpock/pseuds/MrsluluSpock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock walks in on Molly showering.....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Shower

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't invented Toby, he is actually mentioned in Molly's blog as her cat. I'm a cat person so think he should be more of a fixture in the cannon tbh :)

Sherlock broke into Molly’s flat when she didn’t answer the door. It wasn’t exactly hard, an arm through the letterbox. He should probably mention it to her. Irrelevant. He needed her to open the morgue at Bart’s again; he was out of ears and needed to experiment with sulphuric acid. It was vital to a case, well it would be someday.  
“Molly?” he called. He could hear her singing, he knew she was home. Toby jumped up on the back of the settee as he passed it, Sherlock scratched his ears and he purred.  
“Molly, I need you to go into Bart’s” he said, opening the door to the bathroom, he had determined she was in there “I need some-“  
But his request died in his throat as he looked over at Molly in the shower. Through the frosted glass he saw her long legs and slim body. She was washing herself, the thick bubbles covered her back (coconut scented), and the light from the electric bulb above made her skin glisten. Sherlock had never noticed her slight curves, her long neck and small breast before. Completely unaware of Sherlock’s presence she turned slowly her hands in her hair, shampooing it. All the while singing softly “I don’t know why….but I feelin so down…I long to try…something I’ve never had…”  
Sherlock was hot. Inexplicably hot. He felt his airway narrow. He stumbled out of the bathroom and removed his scarf. Gasping for air, he felt his blood coursing through his veins. He fell against the wall. He measured his heart rate, 120. He was still having trouble breathing. He felt nauseous. Dizzy. He was perspiring. He needed his doctor. He was obviously having some sort of fit.

John Watson was having a quiet day at home painting the nursery ready for the birth of his first child. Yellow. Mary Watson did not want a ‘pink baby’ she’d said, she wanted a daughter. So yellow it was. They’d finished half the room when there was a pounding at the door.  
“Stay here” John said to Mary.  
“Not likely” she returned  
“You’re 32 weeks pregnant…”  
“JOHN!!” Came Sherlock’s voice from the hallway, “John-help-I’m-having-a-seizure!”  
“Jesus Christ!” John yelled running down the stairs to the slumped figure of his best friend as he braced himself on the wall “Sherlock, listen to me, what have you taken?”  
“What?”  
“I said WHAT HAVE YOU TAKEN?” John said “You need to tell me”  
“I’m clean John” Sherlock said, showing him his arms. “Something else has triggered this.”  
“Ok…symptoms?” John asked as Mary pressed a cold compress to Sherlock’s forehead and loosened his collar (she was amazing, a better nurse than Sherlock ever was)  
“Heart rate 125, but slowing, high temperature, sweats, dizziness, nausea, mild asphyxiation discomfort in bowels and gen-”  
He paused as Mary leapt back in surprise.  
“Erm Sherlock you’re …” she gasped  
“Erect, I know it’s a symptom.” Sherlock replied calmly  
“Ok.” John said, any other man who was hard around his pregnant wife would earn a broken nose, but this was Sherlock, Sherlock didn’t get aroused. “Could you make us a cup of tea maybe Mary?”  
“Sure” she said leaving the room  
“You know, these symptoms could be explained my extreme arousal Sherlock.”  
“Yes but this is me we are talking about. Why do you always leap to the obvious when confronted with a problem?”  
“Ok well, when did these symptoms start?”  
“Cat hair!”  
“What?”  
“Molly has a cat; I must have developed an allergy!”  
“Molly, how does she come in to this?”  
“I needed ears”  
“No still not getting this…”  
“I wanted her to go into Bart’s; I was at Molly’s flat. Yes that’s it or coconut”  
“Sherlock what type of allergy produces that reaction?”  
“Toxins affect the body in lots of different ways…”  
“Yes but it’s not typical….where does coconut come in to it?”  
“Well coconut or the synthetic perfume they put in shower gel”  
“Shower gel?”  
“Yes she was showering”  
“You walked in on her showering…”  
“Yes”  
“And you think the resulting erection is down to an allergy?”  
“Well yes…..Oh.” Sherlock’s face changed completely into realisation. “I’m…sexually aroused by her?”  
“Yes I think so Sherlock, how does it feel to be human?”  
“It is deeply upsetting…is this how it feels to be slave to baser instincts? Is this how you feel every time you look at Mary?”  
“Well yes…but I suppose I am more ….accustomed to the feeling. But if I walked in on her naked…”  
Sherlock went quiet for a while. John surmised that he was in his deep thinking or “mind-palace” phase, but managed to persuade him to sit in the sitting room rather than the hallway.  
Sometime later, (twenty minutes? Two days??? Sherlock wasn’t sure) his phone started to vibrate in his pocket. Looking at he grimaced.  
*MOLLY HOOPER CALLING*


	2. The phonecall

Brrr Brrr *MOLLY HOOPER CALLING* Brr Brr

Sherlock’s mouth was inexplicably dry as he pressed “Answer” with his thumb; unable to speak, he simply held the phone to his ear. 

“Sher-lock....Sherlock are you th-ere?” came Molly’s sweet (sweet? Where did that come from) trembling voice. Hang on, why was she trembling? Trembling usually meant fear, what was wrong? “Sherlock?” Clearer this time, anger, determination. “Sherlock please, answer me!”

“Molly, tell me what is wrong.” He responded, his voice more controlled then he felt.

“I think someone was in my flat….” Molly said “I think it was hi-m. Ji- Moriarty.”

“Ok.” Sherlock said thinking fast “Come to Baker Street, stay as long as you want.”

“What?”

“You heard me Molly. I want you safe.”

Silence and heavy breathing.

“Molly?”

“Really?”

“Yes of course.”

“Thank you, thank you Sherlock.”

“It’s nothing. Grab what you need and I’ll meet you there in half an hour.” Sherlock said looking at Mary’s clock on the mantelpiece “Bring Toby too.”

“I don’t know what to say…”

“You don’t need to say anything.” Sherlock said getting up. “I’ll see you soon, Molly. Good bye.”

“Bye Sherlock.”

He pressed “End Call” just as John re-entered the room, he had yellow paint on his nose - he was obviously going to be an attentive father. 

“Everything ok Sherlock?” he asked

“Yes that was Molly; she’s going to stay at Baker Street for a while.” John did a double take.

“Why?”

“She thinks her flat was broken into. She’s feeling a little disturbed.”

John did that annoying frowning thing as Sherlock wrapped his scarf around his neck.

“Ok, but why does she need to stay with you?”

“Well she can hardly stay here can she? Mary is about to have a baby.”

“Yes thanks I had noticed” John continued to frown as Sherlock pulled on his coat. “Look have you thought this through?...It might not be the best idea for you and her to be so close…when you, you know…” Sherlock threw him a quizzical look “are attracted to her.”

“It will be fine.” Sherlock said striding out the room “I want to keep her close…” he added. His feelings were new and undefinable, but he knew he wanted to keep her safe. He wanted that desperately. John seemed as mystified as he was by this new revelation.

“And besides John” he added as he opened the door into the crisp London air “we are both consenting adults.” And with that he strode off into the night. 

I will never understand that man, thought John Watson.


	3. Arriving at 221B

Molly would have normally felt quite daft climbing into the back of taxi with a hissing cat, a bright yellow rucksack, a very battered suitcase, two handbags and an ikea bag full of clothes, but as things stood she was too freaked out to care. She’d gotten out of the shower earlier to find the front door wide open, it didn’t take a mind like Sherlock Holmes’ to realise that someone had been in her flat. This fact alone would be disturbing enough, but to Molly who had once dated the highly dangerous psychopath James Moriarty, it was terrifying. 

She managed to stumble into 221b as Mrs Hudson let her in. 

“Oh hello dear, it’s a bit late for a visit isn’t it?” She asked, dressed in a purple dressing gown “Are you staying?”

“Er yes, Sherlock said it would be ok” Molly replied trying to climb the stairs, but finding her luggage made the task impossible “Do you know where he is?” she added exasperated

“You know Sherlock dear, he never tells me anything” Mrs Hudson laughed “Is that a cat?”

“Your skills of deduction are improving Mrs Hudson” Came a sarcastic male voice from the threshold “that is in fact, a male feline, by the name of Toby”

“Sherlock, where have you been? I’d thought you’d be here” Molly asked exasperated.

“I was visiting the Watsons.” Sherlock replied, not looking her in the eye. “Let me help you.” He picked up the plastic cat-carrier and Toby gave a disgruntled “Miiiooooow”.

“You know my rule about pets Sherlock” Mrs Hudson huffed as Sherlock went up the stairs.

“yes but surely you can bend them for Molly” He said “Her flat has been broken into after all” 

This shocked Mrs Hudson into her “mother-hen” routine and promptly helped Molly with her bags, and went to make John’s old bed up for her. A few minutes later, she pressed a cup of hot tea into Molly’s hand. Sherlock was tuning his violin as Toby wondered around their feet inspecting the living room.

“Oh it must have been awful for you dear” Mrs Hudson said, offering her a plate of chocolate digestives. “Did they take much?”

“no, that’s the weirdest thing” Molly returned, sitting awkwardly on the sofa, not sure what to do with herself “Nothing was missing. I just got out of the shower, and the front door was wide open” Sherlock’s eyes widened in realisation, unnoticed by either woman. 

“Oh how creepy, I can understand why you wanted to get out of there” Mrs Hudson agreed “But wouldn’t you rather stay with that nice young man of yours?” Molly looked down at the uneaten biscuit in her hands.

“He’s not my young man any more…” 

“Shame! Why is that dear?” Mrs Hudson pressed

“I think Molly must be feeling tired now Mrs Hudson” Sherlock interjected and relief sprang to Molly’s face.

“Oh yes, quite right Sherlock” She said getting up “Ok dearie I’ll just be downstairs if you need me”

“What could we possibly need you for?” Sherlock asked as she left the flat, but Mrs Hudson pretended not to have heard him.

There was an awkward silence after she’d left, punctuated only by Toby rustling at some papers on the table.

“Toby get down, that could be important” she snapped, jumping up to shoo him.

“Oh don’t worry, it’s only some research on tobacco ash… I’ve filed it away” 

“Ok…” she picked up the cat anyway and set him down “I’m sorry about this…”

“Don’t be sorry.” He said, looking at her properly for the first time and noting how her eyes sparkled, which gave strange sensation in the pit of his stomach. 

“right well” she said looking away “I think I will go to bed actually….”

“Ok sure” he said as she found the right door handle. Toby rubbed his body against Sherlock’s ankles and purred, “Let’s see if we can find you some supper” and looked in his cupboards looking for a tuna can. There were thumping sound coming from the bedroom and then an exasperated Molly reappeared.

“I’ve managed to leave my pjs at the flat, I’m just going to go to see if I can borrow something from Mrs Hudson” she said. Sherlock grimaced at the idea. He did not like the idea of Molly wearing Mrs Hudson’s clothes, in fact he found it quite disturbing for some reason.

“No!” he shouted after her, Molly turned around, an adorable look of surprise on her face. “I mean, poor woman won’t want to be disturbed again..”

“But she said..”

“I’ll get you a shirt you can wear” he said setting off for his bedroom. He selected his favourite plum shirt, he rather like the idea of her being tucked up in it, wearing nothing else, her long toned legs on display and the top buttons undone….gah stop thinking that, bad. 

“Here you are” he said as he returned to the kitchen.

“oh thanks Sherlock” She smiled and Sherlock’s stomach made that swooping sensation again. “and thanks for feeding Toby, I clean forgot.”

 “It’s understandable, you’ve had a fright” 

“yes” she said “well…goodnight Sherlock”

“Goodnight Molly” and he had the maddening idea to kiss her on the cheek, fortunately she moved away before he could do so. She disappeared behind John’s old door and Sherlock realised that he’d had had a point, perhaps this wasn’t one of his best ideas.


	4. Feeling Scared

Sherlock needed to think. Why was it that he could deduce everything he needed to know about a person by looking at them for two seconds but he couldn’t deduce his own feelings? They were new and foreign, but all consuming and terrifying. How did ordinary people function? No, Sherlock Holmes would not let himself be a slave to his own emotions, he would overcome this. But then his mind drifted back to that hot steamy bathroom….the way her skin glistened, how it must have been hot to the touch….then he imagined a similar but different scene, himself with her in the shower… touching her body….caressing her….kissing her….

“Arrrgggh” he groaned hitting his head against the wall gently. Frustrated, he picked up his violin again and decided that composing would help him think.

That night, Molly Hooper was lulled to sleep by the sound of a sombre violin. 

But she woke up with a START.

Someone was slowly but deliberately climbing the stairs. She could hear every unhurried step. Sun scorched through the widow, but she didn’t know what time it was because there was no clock in the room. Fear gripped her. Supposing Sherlock had left and she was alone? It was him, she knew it, and he was going to kill her, or worse.

“Oh hello Sherlock dear,” Molly breathed again, it was only Mrs Hudson. “I’ve brought an extra cup for Molly, is she not up yet?”

“Apparently not” Sherlock returned

“Coooeeee” Mrs Hudson knocked on the bedroom door “Rise and shine dear, it’s nearly eight”

“Eight-o’clock?” She thought, jumping out of bed. She had work in an hour, crap, how would she get there on time? She didn’t want to go, but she opened with such force that she almost sent Mrs Hudson flying.

“Oh sorry!” She said blinking. Sherlock drank in the sight of her wearing his purple shirt; she suited his clothes far more than Janine ever had. The material clung to her slight curves perfectly. Her hair was messy from sleep, tumbling over her shoulders, Sherlock tried to remember if he had ever seen it down before, it suited her that way.

“Not to worry dear” Mrs Hudson said laughing “I’ve made you some tea” she gestured to the cup on the table, to which Molly gratefully drank from.

“Sherlock dear, you’re staring” she said quietly to him, Sherlock responded by glaring at her. “I’ll just leave you two alone then” 

“That would be best I think” replied Sherlock. Molly gulps her tea down too quick.

“bllaah” she said sticking out her tongue “too hot, think I’ve burnt it” Sherlock found this adorable and smiled at her. “What are you grinning at?”

“You,” he laughed, but stopped when he saw the puzzled look on her face. “Don’t you need to be a Bart’s soon; you work most days nine to six.”

“Yes” she said diving into her rucksack that she’d left on the living chair and retrieving a hairbrush and proceeded to attack her hair with it. Sherlock watched her tame it successfully and tie it back. She then disappeared back into the bedroom. She emerged ten minutes later wearing a pink blouse and knee length black skirt. 

“Does this look alright?” she asked

Yes, you look beautiful Molly.

“Yes, fine” she smiled at his answer.

“Oh Toby!” she yelled “I forgot to feed him again, I’m a such terrible cat owner” she made her way to the kitchen.

“It’s ok I gave him something”

“Oh” she said, she seemed frozen to the spot. “I guess I should…”

“…go?” Sherlock volunteered.

“Yes.” But she didn’t move. Sherlock thought for a second, noting her biting lip and her sweaty clenched hands he deduced that she was nervous.

“Are you worried about leaving the flat alone?” he asked

“Yes…its stupid isn’t it?” she said quietly “I’ve lived in London for six years now and I’m a grown woman…I just I-” Her throat caught “I’m so scared Sherlock…” her eyes were moistening. Sherlock stood up and took her in his arms. Molly was completely bewildered by this, and stayed rigid, but felt supported all the same. 

“I can come into Bart’s with you if you’d like” he suggested. 

“Really?” 

“Yes I wouldn’t offer otherwise.” He let her go, “come on, let’s go”

“Thank you Sherlock.” She said, picking up her bag. He pulled his coat on and followed her out of the flat.


	5. Tell her, or I will.

Sherlock decided to spend the day in the specimen room at Bart’s as Molly didn’t have any interesting corpses. He was examining the femur of a polio victim when his phone buzzed.

JW: Fancy coming round? Mary wants your advice on baby stuff. She says I’m useless at decision making.

SH: Can it wait till six? I’m at Bart’s

JW: Ok. Have you got a case?

SH: No.

JW: what are you doing at Bart’s then?

Sherlock decided not to answer this. Deciding that the femur was boring, he went to see if there was anything more interesting to examine…a Victorian brain maybe. But before he could leave the room he received another message.

JW: wait…Molly is working today isn’t she?

Again Sherlock decided not to dignify this with a response, now where was he….ah yes, brains.

JW: Can’t bear to be parted from her Sherlock? You’ve got it BAD :D

Semi-colon D, what the hell did that mean…oh it’s one of those hideous smilie things….

SH: It’s not like that.

JW Oh? What is it like then?

SH: She didn’t want to leave the flat alone this morning so I volunteered to go with her.

JW: Oh. Bet you didn’t take much persuading though?

Sherlock rolled his eyes.

JW: Wait why was she worried?

SH: The flat break in has got her rattled.

JW: Of course. Well bring her round later too if you like?

When he didn’t reply Sherlock received another message ten minutes later.

JW: Please Sherlock, if I have to look at one more ‘baby bouncer’, I’m going to go crazy.

SH: Go with baby bjorn.

He’d just pressed ‘send’ when Molly appeared beside him.

“You really didn’t need to stay here all day” she said, she’d put her outdoor coat back on and looked ready to leave.

“It’s ok.” He smiled and she smiled back. “I kept myself occupied” he added, gesturing the dismembered brain on the table.

“Sherlock, can I ask you something?” She looked hesitant. 

“You just did.”

“hmm yeah.” She replied “but er, why are you being so nice to me? Not that, I’m complaining…it’s just, you’re not your usual….self?” 

He looked at her for a moment. Her charming nervous smile gave him goose bumps. She was beautiful, how had he been so blind for so long?

“Just something I’m trying,” he said quietly, “I think…you deserve it Molly.” 

They looked at each other for a heartbeat, maybe two.

Brr brr Another message from John. He reluctantly looked away from her to read it.

JW: See? You know about this stuff Sherlock. Please help me out. You enjoyed organising the wedding right?

“John wants me to go over and help with the baby shop,” he said “Would you like to accompany me?”

“Yes!” she beamed “That sounds lovely!”

A short cab ride later they were sat in John and Mary’s sitting room discussing the pitfalls of stair-gates. 

“You see I want to get it done now, but John won’t agree” Mary said

“I just don’t see the point of putting them in now, it’ll be ages before the baby can crawl.” John said

“I know that” Mary said “But it’s one less thing to think about isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Sherlock chimed in, “But some argue that children who are used to stairs are better at dealing with them when faced with them outside the house. There is also the increased risk of children climbing over them, not to mention the danger of a fire where the adult has to make a swift exit.”

“Oh,” Mary said looking slightly crestfallen. “I hadn’t considered that…” 

John was immensely gratefully for Sherlock getting him out of that job this weekend, and was eager to get off the subject completely.

“So Molly, have the police been in touch?”

“Hmm, what?” Molly asked over her mug of tea

“about the break in?”

“Oh no, I didn’t contact them, it seemed petty pointless seeing as they didn’t take anything…”

“They didn’t take anything?” Mary asked, frowning. “But then, how do you know someone was there?”

“well I got out of the bathroom after having a shower and the front door was wide open.”

There was an awkward silence as Mr and Mrs Watson turned to glare at Sherlock who pointedly avoided their eyes. 

“It was pretty scary, you know…especially as he’s back.” She didn’t need to mention the name “Moriarty” for everyone in the room to know who she was talking about. 

“Ermm do you want to see the baby’s room Molly?” Mary asked quickly, Molly said she did. “Ok it’s just at the top of the stairs” she directed.

As soon as Molly was out of earshot, she rounded on Sherlock

“WHAT.DO.YOU.THINK.YOU.ARE.PLAYING.AT?” She whispered through clenched teeth, towering over him in his armchair. “That poor girl thinks fucking Moriarty is after her and you let her think that? How can you be so cruel?...Did you know about this?” she asked John.

“No.” he said holding his hands up in mock surrender “Believe me I had no idea and I’m as furious as you are.”

“Well…Sort it out!” She yelled before turning and quitting the room, moving as a fast as a heavily pregnant woman could move.

“What the hell Sherlock?” John asked “I mean seriously, this isn’t a game you know!”

“I know, I know” Sherlock said looking at the floor, “I didn’t realise at first…but then I thought ‘how can I explain when I can’t explain it to myself?’ and now if I tell her she’ll just be angry..”

“Look, you like her right?” John asked “why can’t you just tell her that? It doesn’t have to be a declaration of your undying love…but you need to let her know that she doesn’t have to worry about a psychopath coming to murder her…”

“well technically until we learn his motives we all need to worry about that…”

“You know what I mean.” John said looking furious “It’s not fair to toy with Molly like this. You tell her, or I will.”

It was later in the evening when Molly and Sherlock were eating Chinese takeaway in front of a documentary about Stephen Hawking, and debating whether or not to let Toby try chicken chow mein, that Sherlock got another text from John.

JW: Have you told her yet?


	6. "I’ve been melancholic, but now I want to change that. "

After Molly went to bed Sherlock tried to compose for hours, but frustratingly he kept coming back to Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata”. It wasn’t settling his thoughts like it usually did. He knew he had to tell Molly the truth. Seeing her in pain made him feel anguished also. This in itself was disquieting; he’d never really experienced empathy before…well, perhaps for John when Sherlock had had to pretend to die. It was gut wrenching to know that he was the cause of her pain. But if and when he did tell her… she’d probably be angry. How was he supposed to react to that? How could he make her feel better? Then there was the issue of his…what? Attraction? Was it just lust?...That was certainly a definite part to it… Did he love her? Could he, Sherlock Holmes, the most selfish man in Britain, ever commit to a relationship? Exasperated, he threw the violin down at 3.46 and lay on the sofa to contemplate the ceiling.

He was still there in the morning when Molly got up, but he was finally sleeping. She found a blanket out and carefully laid it over him. After feeding Toby she left the flat as quietly as she could. 

Sherlock awoke with a contented Toby curled up on his chest. It was 2.21pm. Where was Molly? He didn’t recognise this blanket, and he didn’t remember putting it over himself. It smelt like Molly, or at least that lemon washing detergent she uses. The fact that she’d bothered to put it over himself suggested care and affection. He smiled. He hoped she was ok though, reaching for his phone, he’d seen how nervous she’d been previously. 

SH: Are you ok? Sorry I couldn’t come with you.

She text back almost instantly.

MH: It’s ok I didn’t want to wake you x

SH: Thank you for the blanket. 

Right, he thought sitting up (Toby gave an irritated “MIOWW!”), today was going to be a day of action. He was going to tell Molly how he felt. How to do it? Romantic meal! Yes that would work, and if they went to Angelo’s it would be free too. Ok good. He showered, he shaved and he chose his favourite Savile Row tailored suit. Then he had a mild panic attack. Just how the hell was he going to pull this off? It was time for advice from an expert. He phoned John.

“Hi Sherlock everything ok?”

“No not really, I’ve decided to tell Molly how I feel, and you need to help me.”

“Ok brilliant.”

“yes but how does one do these things?”

“well first you need a plan. You taking her anywhere nice?”

“Angelo’s”

“Good start.”

“Yes, but then what?”

“You’re over thinking this Sherlock"

"of course, I'm over thinking - over thinking is what I do."

"Just drink some wine, loosen up a bit …then take her hand and tell her that your feelings have changed and you see her as more than a friend…I’m mean let’s face it Sherlock she’s not exactly going to turn you down is she?”

“well she might when I tell her that it was I in her flat the other night.” John was quiet for a few moments.

“I’d lead with the feelings thing.”

“OK”

Just then he heard the buzzer go. It must be Molly back from work. Sure enough Mrs Hudson’s “Hello dear!” confirmed this. 

“Got to go she’s here.”

“Ok Sherlock, just remember be yourself….but not too much..”

“Great advice John, goodbye.” he said pressing the “end call” button.

Molly entered the room and grinned at him. She looked charming as usual in her purple fitted blouse and black trousers. He smiled back.

“Someone scrubs up well” she said regarding him “I mean not that you- not that I look all the time…You were just so-”

“It’s ok Molly I know what you mean” He said. He stood up and crossed the room to stand in front of her. “I’ve been melancholic, but now I want to change that. Would you like to accompany to dinner?”

Molly’s mouth open and closed like a goldfish. Her eyes were wide. She looked stunned.

“To dinner.” Sherlock nodded “Just the two of us?” he nodded again “like…like a d-date?”

“If that’s not agreeable to you-”

“NO!” she said far too loudly “No, that is, that is very agreeable to me Sherlock”

Sherlock grinned like a kid on Christmas Day. Happiness shot through him aggressively.

“I just need to get ready” she said “give me, half a hour.” she said dashing off to John’s old bedroom. Sherlock watched her go with fascination. His phone vibrated in his pocket.

JW: How are things going?

SH: Battle stations John. She’s just agreed to go out with me.


	7. Dinner Date

Half an hour turned into forty minutes which turned into an hour, which turned into more. In that time Molly had had a thirty-two minute shower and had since been in John’s old room, only sticking her head out the door once to get Sherlock to ask Mrs Hudson if she had a hair-dryer. Luckily she did. It was now 27 minutes since the loud hum of the machine had stopped and Sherlock was baffled as to what she could be doing in there. His mind had wondered, more than once, into wonderful imaginings of her in various states of undress; but it occurred to Sherlock that if she never left the room, these imaginings could never come true. 

“Molly?” he knocked on the door “Are you ready?”

She opened the door and he forgot how to breathe.

She was wearing a short lilac dress, the sateen material of which was gathered around the torso which drew attention to her bust and waist. The attractiveness of her long legs was aided by heeled shoes. Her hair was pinned into a “French twist” (Sherlock remembered that phrase from somewhere…) at the back of her head. Sherlock thought about how fun it would be to undo it later….She’d applied makeup which complemented her beautiful eyes. It was simple, but effective. 

“How do I look?” She asked but Sherlock continued to gawp “It’s too much isn’t it, don’t worry I can change…”

“No!” Sherlock said grabbing her hand before she could disappear into the room again. “You look…stunning. I mean look at me, I’m stunned, I never get stunned, sorry I’m babbling, but really Molly you look….beautiful.” She smiled

“Thank you Sherlock.” 

The moment was broken when Sherlock’s phone buzzed again. He unwillingly let go of Molly’s hand to read the message. Molly checked her hair in a mirror.

JW: How is it going? Did you tell her?

SH: OK so far. No.

“Are you ready to go?” He asked her.

“Yes” She said “Where are we going?”

“Do you like Italian?” Molly nodded. “Great, I know perfect place.”

They arrived in the Soho restaurant a little time later. Angelo greeted Sherlock warmly as always and ushered them to his usual table by the window. It was dark and the soft lighting made Molly’s eyes sparkle. Sherlock tried to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. They sat on the corner of the bench that wrapped round the table, their knees touched occasionally. Molly ordered spinach Cannelloni and Sherlock had a margarita pizza, he cared little for food. As John had suggested, they shared a bottle of Nero d'Avola.

They chatted about Molly’s day at the morgue, nothing of interest had happened, but Sherlock found it absorbing nonetheless. Which was bizarre when he thought about it; but he realised that the difference was that to was Molly who was telling him boring things, and this made all the difference. They decided that they should share a Tiramisu desert as Molly was amazed that Sherlock had never had one before. When it came they both reached for the same spoon, and Sherlock suddenly remembered John’s advice “take her hand and tell her that your feelings have changed”, so he held on to it.

“Molly I need to tell you something…” He said looking into her eyes. She looked, well her expression was unreadable, anxious? Happy? Excited? Sherlock wasn’t sure. “Two days ago I had an epiphany… I had visited you at your flat, and finding you were in the bathroom entered that room also….” Molly had snatched her hand away looking stricken “and I was struck by-”

“oh god, I’m so bloody stupid” she said looking fixedly at the table. 

“What?” Sherlock asked dumbfounded “I..”

“I knew, I knew this was too good to be true” she said breathing heavily “It was you wasn’t it? Who left the door open?”

“Yes, but..”

“All this time,” Molly said turning her eyes to glare at him, “All this time I’ve been terrified Sherlock, and you, you let me-”

“But I thought you were over that?” Sherlock said “you left this morning on your own?”

“Only because I forced myself!” she yelled “Only because I didn’t want you to think I was pathetic, do you know how freeked out I was on the tube? How many times I turned round in the street because I thought someone was following me?!”

“That’s ridiculous if Jim Moriarty was after you, you would be dead by now.” Sherlock barked, regretting it instantly.

“That’s meant to comfort me?” she was almost shouting now, other patrons had started to stare. “And what’s ridiculous is me thinking you could ever care about me. I bet this was all one of your stupid experiments, wasn’t it? Well fuck you Sherlock; I’m done being your…whatever!” 

She got up and stormed out the restaurant. She paced down the road to Oxford Circus tube station, and furious with herself, she started to cry. She cried all the way back to her flat. She cried on the escalator, she cried in the street, she cried as she put her keys in the lock. Then she cried because she realised Toby was still at Baker Street and she would have to see Sherlock if she ever wanted to hear his comforting purrs again. Irate, she flung the door open and flicked on the light.

“Good evening, Miss Hooper.” Came a clipped voice from a chair in the corner.


	8. "I don't know."

Sherlock felt utterly drained as he watched Molly leave. He felt devastated. Sharp piecing pain spread throughout his body, from his heart into his throat. He didn’t want to feel like this. He knew how dangerous this situation was, so he got his phone out and texted John.

It wasn’t until thirty-two minutes later that John realised he had a message. He’d been putting together a flat pack changing table for the nursery. A job which proved to be more complicated than he had first imagined. It was now 10.16. He’d just poured a well-earned cup of tea for himself and his wife when he noticed the blue light on his phone.

SH: Help me John I’m tempted.

Mary noticed the sudden change in her husband’s demeanour, his eye’s widened as he hunched over his phone and hastily punched at the keys.

JW: Where are you? 

“What’s wrong John?” she asked

“It’s Sherlock, I think he wants to start using again.”

“well go to him!” She gasped “Stop him!”

“I’m trying to find out where he is!” he said. He sent a quick to text to Molly.

JW: Where did you last see Sherlock?

And Lestrade.

JW: When was the last time you did a drugs bust at Baker St?

“I’m going to ring Mrs Hudson” Mary said picking up the landline. But before she dialled the number, John got a new text.

SH: Baker St. 

JW: Ok I’m coming. Don’t do anything stupid.

“He’s at Baker St. I’ve got to go.” John said getting up.

“Do you want me to-”

“No.” John said firmly. “I want to keep my pregnant wife and cocaine completely separate.” He said putting on his coat. “You know what I mean” he added when he noticed she looked hurt “I need to keep you safe” and he kissed her on the forehead.

“Ok” she smiled “but phone me if you need anything.”

Thankfully John was able to get a cab quite easily. It was just turning into Baker St when he received a message from Lestrade.

GL: Not for a long time. Is everything ok?

JW: Not sure. He text me saying he was tempted. Going to see now.

GL: Christ. Text me if you need me.

John paid the cabbie and went inside; he still had his old key. As he climbed the stairs he was full of trepidation. Just what state would Sherlock be in? He was not sure how Sherlock would be able to cope with his heart being stomped on, after only just discovered that he had one.

When he got to the dark sitting room he found Sherlock right away. He was laid out flat on his back on the sofa. A yellow blanket covered him. He had his arm over his eyes. There was a smoking cigarette between his fingers. 

“Erm… Sherlock?” John said to announcing his presence.

“John.” Sherlock said simply before taking a draw of the cigarette. John noticed his eyes were red, had he been crying?

“You alright mate?” John asked feebly.

Sherlock cocked his head slightly and narrowed his eyes.

“Do I look alright?” Sherlock hissed.

“No.” John replied sitting down in his chair opposite him. “No, I’d say you look like a man who has had his heart broken.”

“Hm.” Sherlock responded. “You will forgive the cigarette. It was either this, or coke, and I thought this would be less offensive to Molly”

John breathed a sigh of relief. 

“You still care about her then?”

“Of course.” 

Toby jumped up onto Sherlock’s chest. He scratched the cat’s ear and he purred. 

“Who’s this little guy then?” John asked.

“Toby, Molly’s cat.” Sherlock responded. “I suppose she’ll want him back.”

“It went, badly then?” John asked.

“Yes,” Sherlock sighed as Toby started to nuzzle his hand. “It was an unmitigated disaster. I tried to tell her how I felt, but she got angry at me for lying to her. Now she wants nothing to do with me.”

“That’s rough mate.” John said “Are you going to be ok?”

“I don’t know.”


	9. A Warning

“Good evening Miss Hopper.” 

Molly screamed in fright.

“Mr Holmes,” She breathed heavily. “You scared me!”

“My apologies” Mycroft Holmes replied. “Please sit down.”

It was highly peculiar to see Mycroft Holmes sitting in her flat. On her cheap armchair which she had covered in a crochet patchwork throw. He was the last person she wanted or expected to see. He looked like a visitor from another time in his tweed and his silk waistcoat, juxtaposed against her bohemian decor. She noticed he had a brown paper file with her name on it. Just then her phone bleeped, but she chose to ignore it.

“What the hell are you doing in my flat?” She yelled, resolutely standing.

“I wished to speak to you without my brother knowing,” he said opening the file “And this is the first time since… Tuesday evening,” he was reading a date “that I have had the opportunity.”

“Get out of my flat.” She barked, rage bubbling inside her.

“Not until you have answered my questions.” He smiled. “Please describe your relationship with my brother.”

“It is non-existent.” She stated “Now leave.” 

He merely looked at her, a disparaging look on his face.

“A strange description seeing as you and him have spent the last…sixty two hours in each other’s company?”

“I think you ought to speak to Sherlock about that.” She said defiantly. Mycroft tried a different tactic.

“Perhaps you deluded yourself into thinking there was more to the relationship then there was in actuality?” She glared at him, her fists clenched. “Could it be that you sought to seduce him?”

Frustratingly tears sprang back into her eyes.

“GET OUT” she screamed “Get out get out get out get out get out!” 

“Alright Miss Hooper,” He said resigned “I shall take my leave of you.” He got up and walked towards her. “But let this be a warning to you Miss Hooper, my brother is a brilliant man, and I will not allow him to be distracted from his purpose.” 

He left and Molly decided that she’d had had enough of the Holmes brothers breaking into her flat. So she pushed a dining chair against her front door.   
That night she didn’t sleep a wink. Her thoughts tortured her, how could she have been so stupid? 

Back in 221b Baker Street, Sherlock Holmes was having the same problem.


	10. Roses

He played “Moonlight Sonata” over and over until he lost count. At some point John had left, he found a note on the chair he had been sitting in.

“Hey Sherlock I need to go. I’ve tried telling you but I don’t think you heard. Call me if you need anything – John.”

He was trying to get his thoughts in order, file the emotions away in his mind palace. He tried to put Molly in the room next to Redbeard, but she wouldn’t go. She kept escaping and following him around. He was getting annoyed now; he hated this feeling of misery. Then he had a thought; could it be that he couldn’t file her away because the emotion wasn’t finalised? With Redbeard, the dog he loved, his only childhood friend, was put down. Gone forever, Sherlock had to put those emotions away before they consumed him. But with Molly, the only girl he’d ever loved, she was still here. Granted she was furious with him, but there was the possibility that she would come round. Sherlock clung to that hope.   
He ordered eleven pink roses to be delivered to her flat. 

The next morning Molly was eating her Weetabix and considering calling in sick when there was a knock at the door. She shuddered. 

“Who is it?” 

“Delivery for Miss Hooper.” She pulled the chair away from the door and was stunned to receive eleven pink roses. She read the card, just a simple “Sorry” Furious she threw them down on the table and made her mind up to go into work so that she would be distracted. This was Sherlock all over, he was nothing but mind games and manipulation and bullshit. No she would not allow herself to be taken in again. 

She picked up her phone before setting out to work and noticed she had had a message from John.

JW: Where did you last see Sherlock?

MH: what’s it to you?

She’d just got out of St Paul’s station when she received another message.

JW: I needed to find him last night, he was in a bad way and I thought he might be using again. False alarm but he’s pretty cut up.

She rolled her eyes in line for her morning coffee.

MH: He’s manipulating you John; you can’t trust a word he says.

JW: I don’t think so Molly, not this time.

MH: Whatever. Just tell him I want my cat back.

JW: Tell him yourself. 

John fired of the latest text and went back to putting shelves up, much to Mary’s liking. How was it that she was due in a week and a half and the nursery still wasn’t done? But then there was another interruption.

“John? Mary?” came Sherlock’s unmistakable drawl from the stairs “Are you still nesting?”

“Sherlock!” John returned, annoyed “That door was locked!”

“As if a locked door ever got in my way” he said smiling from the nursery doorway, “and relax less than one percent of babies actually come on their due date”

“Yes but some come sooner” Mary said, painting the stokes of the back of a rocking chair in the corner.

“Yes but yours wont.” Sherlock said “You’ve miss judged your conception date by four days.”

“How could you-” Mary started “No, no I don’t want to know.”

“Well somebody is in a better mood.” John said trying to find the right screwdriver.

“Yes John.” Sherlock said as he got the correct screwdriver out and gave it to his friend. “I’m going to win her back.”

“Brilliant and how are you going to do that?”

“No idea” he said “That’s why I’m here. I started by sending her exactly eleven pink roses this morning, according to the language of flowers, the number signifies that the recipient is deeply loved and the colour says “please forgive me”.” He helped John lift the shelf into position “a happy coincidence that Molly adores the colour pink. I bet she’s half way to forgiving me already.”

Mary rolled her eyes.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that mate.” John said as he turned the screw.

“What do you mean?” Sherlock asked perplexed.

“You really don’t know anything about women do you Sherlock?” Mary said “You lied to her; she’s not going to forgive you just because you gave her flowers. Granted it’s a good start, but you still have a lot of work to do.”

“Oh.” Sherlock said crestfallen. “Will you help me?” 

“Of course we will mate.” John said, “As long as you help us get this nursery sorted.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Info on language of roses: http://www.rkdn.org/roses/colors.asp (No idea whether that's correct...)
> 
> Wow 100 kudos, I'm overwhelmed. Thanks to everyone who has read and enjoyed x


	11. Nerves

After the shelves were put and the children’s books and soft toys arranged they put together the crib. Fifty minutes, several swear words and one death threat later (Mary’s towards the designer), all that was left to do was put the mobile above the crib. 

“You are aware that these have little or no benefit to your child’s developing mind?” Sherlock said

“Hush you” Mary said “Look at the little planes, its adorable”

“There,” said John as he stepped back, “all it needs now is a baby.” 

“Oh!” said Mary welling up. John put his arm around her.

“Why are you crying? I thought you’d be pleased?” Sherlock asked. He looked around the room, it had everything a miniature human being could need and more, a small dresser come changing table, a crib, a mobile, a rocking chair (for some explicable reason), toys and books that it wouldn’t need for months… 

“She’s happy. People sometimes cry when they’re happy,” John explained “especially when they are pregnant.”

“It’s perfect John” Mary said and she kissed him.

“hmmm you’re perfect” he returned kissing her back, then he paused as he noticed Sherlock was staring “Sherlock!”

“Sorry!” He said looking away “But you said you’d help me with Molly…”

“Yes but we’re not going to a provide demonstration!” John glowered but Mary just laughed. Just then Sherlock’s phone buzzed and his heart leapt as he read that it was from Molly. 

MH: I’m coming to get my stuff at 8. It would be better if you weren’t there. 

“She’s coming to Baker Street tonight.” Sherlock stated “What do I do?”

“Right battle stations” John said. 

They sat in the sitting room and discussed the matter over tea. After much toing and froing, it was decided that Mary and John would be at Baker Street with Sherlock when Molly arrived. John was initially against the idea, as he thought that Molly might feel ganged up on; but Mary noted that Molly stood more of a chance of listening to Sherlock if they were there. Plus there was less chance of shouting because Molly wouldn’t dare shout at a pregnant person. 

“But what do I say?” Sherlock asked

“Something from the heart…” John replied

“Thank you for being so delightfully ambiguous John.” Sherlock said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Well I can’t tell you what to say!” John said exasperatedly “and it can’t what you think she wants to hear either, believe me that gets you nowhere…”

“We’re talking about a previous relationship here I hope John?” Mary asked, her eyebrows raised.

“Yes dear, it was that boring teacher, remember her Sherlock?” 

“The one with the dog?” Sherlock returned  
“No the one after her…”

“Just how many women were there?” Mary asked, incredulously

“It’s not important, look we’re meant to be focusing on his love life not mine” John said quickly “what would you say if she was here now?”

“I’d tell her that since I realised I cared for her my life has been brighter then I care to remember, and that if she could find it in her heart to forgive me I would promise never to lie to her again nor let her go.”

There was a stunned silence. Then Mary said “aww Sherlock” and burst into tears and John slapped him on the back and said “’atta boy”

“but I don’t want to make her cry” looking at Mary with anxiety “do I?” 

“These are tears of joy Sherlock!” Mary gasped 

“you know how hormones effect pregnant women…” John said as an aside

“ah” Sherlock said, understanding.

“It was beautiful, though” John added, not looking at him. “I think she’ll be bowled over.”

Sherlock smiled in relief. Later they all piled into the back of a cab and returned to Baker Street. Sherlock immediately dived into his wardrobe to select suitable armour. He selected a white silk shirt and black trousers. He went back to the sitting room, but finding he couldn’t sit still stood and picked up his violin. Mary sat of the sofa and tried to think of words of encouragement. John hoped that this would end well from his old chair. Sherlock tried to play “The Arrival of the Queen of Sheba” but found that his hands were shaking. John said this was nerves, it was frightfully annoying. 

“What are you doing here?” A female voice came from the doorway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SkcI_nLup4k ~ The Arrival of the Queen of Sheba by Handel


	12. "You have ten minutes"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter includes very sweet romantic gooey luvie stuff. You may wish to clean your teeth after reading.

“I told you it would be better if you weren’t here” Molly said glaring at Sherlock. Sherlock stood dumbfounded, his violin still in hand. 

“Sherlock wanted to talk to you Molly” John said.

“Well I’ve had enough of it!” she said “all he ever does is manipulate people…come on Toby” she said to her cat, but when she tried to pick him up he hissed at her and hid. “Toby?” she said upset.

“The most singularly intelligent animal I’ve ever met, that cat.” Sherlock said recovering himself. “I think he wants you to listen to me.”

“You saying I’m less intelligent than a cat now?” Molly spat, Toby growled.

“No,” Sherlock went on, “You are very smart Molly Hooper. Why should you trust me when you have no cause to? When, as you say, my previous behaviour has been manipulative?”

“Not really selling yourself mate,” John interjected

“I admit that I would not trust someone like me, but then I have been told on numerous occasions that I have no heart, and therefore have no power to forgive.” Sherlock said “But you Molly, you have a heart. Please give me the chance to earn your forgiveness.”

“Please Molly, hear him out.” Mary said patting the place beside her. Molly sulkily sat beside her.

“Thank you” Sherlock breathed.

“You have ten minutes.” She said.

Sherlock swallowed. Where should he begin? At the beginning would be logical.

“On Tuesday evening I came to your flat for typically selfish reasons, I wished you to go back into the mortuary at Bart’s to collect ears for an experiment I wanted to do-”

“how did you get in?”

“I er, stuck my arm through the letter box, child’s play.” Molly looked furious at this and she tried to stand but Mary held her back by the arm.

“You said you’d listen.” Mary said to Molly “Go on Sherlock.”

“I came to realise that you were in the bathroom” Sherlock continued “You were having a shower, so I entered that room…”

“Pervert.” Molly sneered

“Yes Molly exactly!” Sherlock said “What I mean to say is that, when I entered the room I had no desire to see you naked. I was focused on what I wanted. But then I saw you and I was struck by your beauty…so struck in fact that I became” he swallowed “aroused.”

Molly screwed her face up at him, disgusted and confused.

“He thought he was having a fit of some kind.” John interjected. “he came round to our house, I had to explain it to him.”

“He was very distressed” Mary added.

“It was a revelation. Don’t you see Molly?” Sherlock asked “I don’t get aroused, not ever, but I wanted you.”

“Is that meant to make me feel better?” Molly asked staring him in the face, “So you felt lust? That doesn’t mean you care about me!”

“No” Sherlock agreed “No it doesn’t. But when you rang and thought your flat had been broken into-”

“It had been broken into” Molly interjected.

“Yes, by me. But I didn’t know that at the time, I just felt an overwhelming urge to keep you safe.” He said, and Molly softened a little. “It was only later I realised that it was me in your flat but by that time I was enjoying your company so much I didn’t want to lose you.”

“so you let me carry on believing someone was after me?”

“Yes, I admit that was bad form. But you must believe me Molly I felt and am still feeling immense guilt about that. It tore me up to know you were in pain and I was the cause of it. I am deeply sorry.”

“You’re a sociopath.” Molly said incredulously “Sociopaths don’t feel empathy.”

“I know,” Sherlock said, kneeling before her “These feelings frightened and confused me and I mused on them for days. Eventually this, amongst other things, made me come to the resolution that I love you Molly Hooper, deeply and passionately.”

Molly blinked and studied his face, he seemed genuine, but she couldn’t be sure.

“What other things?”

Sherlock took her hands.

“Firstly: If I could take away all your pain and take it to bear as my own I would do so in a heartbeat.” He paused, was that a smile quivering at the corner of her mouth, “Secondly: I have enjoyed your company immensely over these last few days, I have been happier than I can remember. Thirdly and finally: I am, that is to say, greatly attracted to you physically, something that I have never experienced before but I have to admit I am rather enjoying.” He grinned coyly and she returned it. 

“Ok that er, does sound quite convincing,… but how can I trust you again?”

“Please Molly, please give me the chance to prove my love for you and I will never lie to you again” He begged. Molly’s heart faltered and she decided she could bear it no longer. Leaning over, she placed her lips on his.

It was as if all of Sherlock’s anguish had turned to liquid and he melted instantly as he felt her soft lips against his own. He had kissed before but it was never like this. His heart was on fire. This meant something. This was real and true. It was all to brief however, and she pulled back and smiled at him, their foreheads still touching. He grinned back like the Cheshire cat. 

“Please don’t make me regret this.” Molly whispered.

“Never.” Sherlock said and tried to close the distance between them again. There was an audible sob from beside Molly.

“OK, I think that’s our cue to leave” John said getting up. “Come on Mary.”

“Never let her go Sherlock!” Mary cried as she left the room.

“I don’t intend to.” Sherlock smiled, not taking his eyes off Molly’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....It's not over. I think Mycroft deserves a comeuppance don't you? I'm enjoying writing it so much.
> 
> Thanks again to everyone who has read and enjoyed this!


	13. "Ah, Yoko."

The next morning Sherlock woke up next to Molly. She was still asleep, her chest gently rose and fell. Sherlock decided that his shirts look infinitely better on Molly, especially when she was in his bed and her long dark hair tumbled over the pillow. She looked perfect. She started to stir after a while and Sherlock put his hand on her hip and pulled her gently to him to kiss her neck.

“Good morning Molly” he breathed in her ear.

“hmmm good morning” she returned kissing him softly. They kissed lazily for a while. “Are you sure you don’t mind waiting?” Molly asked looking at him nervously.

“Molly, I told you I’d never lie to you again” he said looking into her eyes “I am thrilled with the level of intimacy we currently enjoy” 

“Thrilled?” Molly asked

“Deeply” he said claiming her mouth again.

“How would… you feel…mmm” Molly started as Sherlock sucked at her collar bone “… about ….sharing a… a shower with me?” 

“I feel exhilarated” Sherlock returned, his eyes darkening

Twenty-two minutes later, Sherlock was washing his girlfriend’s back (and trying to commit to memory the freckle formation on her delectable arse) when he heard a most unsettling sound, his brother’s tread in the sitting room. He knew it was Mycroft because of the creak of the particular type of leather that his shoes were made of on the floorboards and the soft tap of his infernal metal tip of his umbrella. 

He leaned over Molly’s shoulder and turned the water off, kissing it has he did so. Was there a more spectacular sight than Molly Hooper naked and wet? Sherlock doubted it. Her stunning smooth skin glistened with moisture and her long hair ran down her shoulders and on to her breast, just covering her nipples. Her sweet pink lips pouted. Her beautiful dark eyes gazed at him. Droplets of water trickling down her torso and on to her buttocks and thighs and… other places…But Sherlock couldn’t enjoy it as much as he’d hoped because his brother was in the next sodding room.

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

“My dear brother is here.” He grimaced, Molly’s face fell. “I’ll get rid of him” 

He stepped over the bath rim and had his hand on the door handle when Molly threw a towel at him.

“Make yourself decent” she giggled. Sherlock had forgotten he was naked. He wrapped it around his waist.

“MYCROFT!” he yelled, “Now is not a good time. In fact never is a good time. Kindly leave. NOW!” 

“That is no way to greet your concerned brother”. Mycroft was stood by the doorway, Toby arched his back at him and growled.

“I don’t have time for this Mycroft” Sherlock sneered.

“No, no you don’t have time for anything these days, now that Miss Hooper has entered your life.”

“What is that meant to mean?” Came Molly’s defiant voice as she stepped into the room, wearing Sherlock’s large blue dressing gown.

“Ah, Yoko.” Mycroft sneered “Tell me, how does it feel to have ruined one of the great minds of the twenty-first century?”

“What?” Molly asked stunned.

“Tell me how many cases you have solved since you became involved with her.” Mycroft turned to Sherlock.

“We have been an item for less than twenty hours Mycroft.” Sherlock hissed “the interesting cases take at least twenty-four.”

“Yes but you have been mooning over her for almost a week and it that time you have not even looked for a case let alone solved one,” Mycroft pressed on “I wonder, how many crimes will go unpunished, how many lives have been lost all because Sherlock Holmes has found himself a new distraction.”

“She is not a mere distraction!” Sherlock returned “she is the woman I love and you will respect her.”

“Is it love, really? Or just and infatuation? Come on Sherlock, how could you love someone so simple minded as-”

Sherlock had punched him, right in the nose. Mycroft was knocked onto the ground. Blood poured down his chin.

“You ever speak about her like that again, I will end you Mycroft.” Sherlock snarled. Molly appeared beside Sherlock and looked down at Mycroft.

“I think it’s time for you to leave Mr Holmes, don’t you?” She said

Mycroft looked complete bewildered for a moment, then looked at Sherlock with utter revulsion.

“You see what she has done Sherlock?” he whispered. “You’re nothing but a bag of hormones.”

Sherlock made another move towards him but Molly held him back.

“Get out!” she yelled. Mycroft reluctantly got up and left the flat, all the while Sherlock glared at him. It was only when he left that Molly noticed Sherlock was trembling.

“Are you ok?” Molly asked, putting her hands up to stroke his face.

“No. My brother…always tries to ruin everything…” he whispered, looking through her.

“Hey, look at me” she said and he looked her in the eyes “He can’t ruin us…I won’t let him”

She pulled Sherlock down for another kiss, and he pulled her towards him. Her sweet small body fitted perfectly against his. Mycroft couldn’t be more wrong, he needed her in his life because they were two halves of a whole.

“I, er, haven’t ….broken you though, have I?” she asked demurely, a small smile on her lips but Sherlock could tell she was worried.

“No, my powers of deduction are still intact.” He smiled “I’ll take you to brunch and prove it if you like?”


	14. deductions

They arrived at the nearest starbucks, hand in hand a little time later. Sherlock stood in the line while Molly found a table. When he returned he informed her that the girl who served him was a lesbian who was in love with her lover’s sister, the gentleman behind him in the queue was about to propose to his girlfriend that night but Sherlock was sure she’d say no and that the woman by the window was contemplating leaving her husband and buying a house in the Cotswalds.

“Satisfied, my love?” He asked. Molly giggled into her coffee.

“Yes, you certainly know how to satisfy a woman” she teased running her ankle against his calf under the table. “But you are going to start looking at cases again soon aren’t you?  
”  
“Of course” He returned, “I’ll have to find a way to occupy myself when you go into work.”

They carried on chatting and laughing and eating their croissants until they were interrupted by a familiar face.

“Sherlock, Molly!” came Lestrade’s voice and he sat down beside them, much to Sherlock’s annoyance. 

“Greg” Molly said cheerfully “what are you doing here?”

“The inspector has a new girlfriend who leaves nearby,” Sherlock said “You can tell by the state of his shirt.”

“What’s wrong with my shirt?”

“Nothing, but I can tell it was freshly ironed this morning, you have recently had your hair cut, and you are wearing a new cologne so you’re obviously trying to impress her.” Sherlock went on.

“You’ll have to excuse him” Molly said “he showing me how his deduction skills are still intact.”

“Why wouldn’t they be?” Lestrade asked

“My brother has the foolish idea that since I have fallen in love with Molly-” Greg chocked on his coffee “-that suddenly I wouldn’t be able to observe… Are you ok?”  
Lestrade was looking at them both in turn, his eyes wide with amazement.

“Really?” He said to Molly “you and him?”

“Yes” she laughed

“Blimey Sherlock, well done.” He said slapping him on the shoulder

“’Well done’ for what?”

“Realising what a great girl Molly is” Greg said, smiling at her. She blushed slightly. Sherlock glared at him, he’d suddenly felt a rush of rage towards Lestrade, jealousy he supposed. “just remember, if you hurt her you have me to deal with.”

“Why would I hurt her?” Sherlock asked, “Just because you can’t keep a healthy romantic relationship, doesn’t mean we are all incapable.”

“Sherlock!” Molly said aghast “That was very rude, apologise.”

“I am sorry inspector.” Sherlock muttered not looking at him. Greg just looked astounded at him.

“Do you know, that’s probably the first time you’ve ever apologised to me?” he asked Sherlock.

“I am aware.”

“Being in love suits you.” He said. Molly reached over the table and grasped Sherlock’s hand. 

“I think so too” she said, and Sherlock kissed the back of her palm. Greg raised his eyebrows, still disbelieving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little Lestrade cameo


	15. bliss

After the coffee shop, Molly said she needed to get some more things from her flat. Sherlock quibbled that she had everything she could possibly need at Baker St.

“But what about my night clothes?” she said as their cab left the kerb.

“You look great in my shirts” he pouted. She kissed him and he responded earnestly leaning into her so that she was pressed against the window.

“Sherlock…” she said as he started to kiss her neck, “the cabbie…”

“ah yes,” he said, straightening up. “sorry.”

“Eh, are you Sherlock Holmes?” the driver asked

“Yes.” Returned Sherlock, rolling his eyes.

“Cor blimey, no one will ever believe this!” the drive went on “Sherlock Holmes in my cab!” he started laughing and didn’t stop until they drew up outside Molly’s flat. 

“Why don’t you just live with me at Baker St?” Sherlock said climbing the stairs “that way we don’t have to put up with irritating cabbies.”

“It’s a bit soon for that Sherlock.” Molly said opening the door. He frowned at her. "We don’t want to rush things and ruin it.” Sherlock still couldn’t see the point, but he trusted Molly’s judgement. “would you be able to make it more secure though?” She added as an afterthought. Sherlock got out his phone, within minutes a locksmith turned up and attached three new locks to the front door, including a deadbolt, he (whom Sherlock introduced as “Larry”; had apparently owed Sherlock a favour) then placed a metal cage over the letter box. 

“It’s a bit extreme isn’t it?” Molly asked, admiring the door after Larry left.

“I’ve got to keep you safe Molly” he said kissing her forehead. “Now let’s get your nightie and go.”

“oh, yeah” She smiled coyly as she went into the bedroom.

Sherlock looked around the room, it was decidedly “Mollyish” in its décor. It was the opposite of 221b Baker Street but Sherlock liked it all the same. There were bright colours, hand crafted items and an abundance of flowers. Flowers on cushions, flowers in pictures and flowers on coasters. But Sherlock couldn’t see the bouquet he’d sent anywhere… he was looking for it when Molly appeared at the doorway.

“Looking for something?” she asked

“Yes, where-” When he looked at her he lost all his thoughts. 

Molly was wearing a sheer lace edged red nightie; that hung from her breast and barely covered the tops of her thighs. Sherlock opened his mouth and shut it again.

“You sure I haven’t broken you?” Molly asked a smile on her lips. Sherlock swallowed.

“when did you get that?” He asked weakly

“After me and Tom split I wanted to feel sexy again” Molly said “But then I got it home and felt depressed because I thought I’d never wear it... do you like it?”

“Very much,” Sherlock gasped “but you don’t need bits of red lace to make you sexy…you are the sexiest woman I’ve ever met.” He added looking into her eyes.

“Really?” she smiled nervously

“Indeed” Sherlock, looked down at the nightgown again “but I must admit, it certainly heightens my desire…I’m not sure why…”

“Do you want to think about it in bed Sherlock?” Molly asked quickly

“I can think of something much more interesting I would like to do in bed Molly” Sherlock answered.

“Good” she said smiling, and she took him by the hand and led him into the bedroom.

“are you sure?” Sherlock asked as she sat on the edge of the bed.

“Yes, I can’t wait a second longer” Molly replied helping Sherlock lose his shirt…

…After a day and a half of blissful and passionate relations, Sherlock received the following text from John late on Sunday evening.

JW: Congratulations Sherlock, you’re an uncle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and that's all folks. 
> 
> Sorry if the ending is a bit shit. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has read and enjoyed this.
> 
> UPDATE 02/01/16  
> The new episode has really made me want to write more about this. Notice how Molly was central to Sherlock's fantasy? And why was Watson asking all those questions in the greenhouse? Was that his subconscious thinking about what Molly means to him?  
> Or am I just fangirling. Probably the latter.
> 
>  


End file.
